


Demotion

by madswritings



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Mild Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 00:45:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12070308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madswritings/pseuds/madswritings
Summary: You get demoted to the archiver and you find a picture of Graves in his youth which leads you to acting awkwardly around Director and him wanting to know what happened. | As per request on Tumblr





	Demotion

With a sigh you stop at the door leading to the archive of MACUSA. You’ve been demoted. Why? Because you used magic with No-Majs present. You don’t agree with the punishment but you’re really not the one to question President’s decisions either. You understand why you were demoted, but you don’t understand why they are making your talents gather dust here. Well, alright, you don’t know if your talents really will be wasted here because it’s your first day as an archiver, but you always saw yourself as a fighter, a justice bringer. Being part of Magical Law Enforcement was your dream come true. You were able to help people and you were able to punish people if they were wrong or bad. And now you have to work here, where you will be all alone, bored and, well, dusty.  
You look around at the empty corridor on both sides half expecting someone to show up from around the corner, out of breath from running, and stop you before you can even put a key into a keyhole. Stop you and say that this whole situation is a mistake and Madam Picquery changed her mind. But as seconds pass you understand this is not going to happen. Another heavy sigh leaves your chest and you turn your eyes to the heavy metal door. All records, personal and otherwise, are stored here. Your work is to check each and every one of them, make a system and like some medieval monk restore or remake papers that were damaged by time, humidity or anything else.  
“I don’t deserve this.” You mutter under your breath and glance down at a big metal key in your hand that obviously fits into the keyhole of the door that’s in front of you.  
After another moment of angry murmuring under your breath you push the key in and turn it. Then you open the door and stare into the darkness for a few seconds. But magic inside this room senses the door and that it has been open so lights start appearing inside the huge room expanding it with every new light, illuminating probably hundreds of shelves.  
Your shoulders drop. From what you see before even stepping into the room there’s enough work for a few lifetimes at best and your hope to finish quickly and apply for your former job fly out of the window just like that.  
“Crap.” You sigh for the third time and step inside looking around.  
You can’t tell where walls end because there are shelves and shelves of documents. Even when MACUSA moved around every document was kept as best to current archiver’s efforts and now you understand that the punishment wasn’t demotion itself – it’s this. This whole room is heavy with dust particles, magical lights that make you feel like you traveled at least a hundred years back in time and this smell of old parchments and ink. For a moment you almost hear all the quills that wrote in each and every parchment here and you forget to breathe just for a split second. The illusion passes and you breathe a little bit easier. There’s no time to stare shocked, it’s time to work.  
Once you step a bit deeper into the room the door behind you closes and you, almost startled, look at it then frown, a bit annoyed at yourself for being so easily scared. This is just a room after all.  
It’s time to work and you push the key, which you took out of the door before stepping inside, into your pocket, then roll up your sleeves. You take out your wand not hoping for it to help you much. Magic has to be very delicate here because some of the papers are very fragile, some are protected by magic, some are made to repel it. You have to be careful.  
Suddenly you lower your eyes when you feel something tug at your shoe. It’s a white origami mouse which won’t leave you alone until you take it and read the note. Good timing too, you think to yourself. Because you don’t know where you should start. As you pick up the mouse and it becomes inanimate in your fingers you unfold it and read your first task here – gather all current workers files, make sure they are intact and in order, then file them based on departments and ranks. You try hard not to sigh again. Fine, you can do this. Maybe you can do this even today, the day is still young.  
As you push the note into your other pocket you look around trying to understand where you can find personal files, then you will narrow it down to current wizards and witches hired by the MACUSA. But it’s not an easy task. You start going between the shelves. They are marked, sure, but there’s no order whatsoever. Illegal beasts share a shelf with No-Maj incidents; magic misuse is together with work injuries and so on. Yet after about an hour later you find personal files. They fill three huge shelves and you press your lips into a thin line preparing yourself for work.  
You approach the right shelf and start scanning backs of the file boxes and sure you find Goldstein sisters, then Abernathy. Your finger is sliding over the backs, leaving almost invisible traces in thin layer of dust but suddenly your finger stops. Letters on the back spell Percival Graves.  
Instantly you get curious. He’s the most mysterious man in MACUSA as you do say yourself. He’s always professional but also Graves is a very talented wizard, and, as it’s spoken in the shadows, the most powerful man, surpassing even President Seraphina.  
A small smirk appears on your lips.  
“Let’s see how talented you really are, Director Graves.” You mutter as you move your finger to the top of the file and pull down on it. You take the file out of the shelf, look around but when you find no place to sit you pull a chair out of the air with your wand. You sit and stare at the cover that states Graves’ name once more, then his birth date and current position in MACUSA. You know you are supposed to check everything and make sure they are tip top shape but somehow this feels sinful, like you’re about to see something you’re not supposed to.  
You swallow hardly. What harm can it do?  
With dry throat you open the file and your eyes start scanning the words written. His resume is the first page, with a portrait which makes you feel even more uncomfortable because his picture self is looking at you almost angrily.  
Resume is nothing special. It gives you knowledge you already had – Percival’s school, House, family legacy, wand specifications, marital status and so on. Next page is his grades from Ilvermorny and while you’re not surprised he finished in top grades you find it also boring. Prodigy child became prodigy of a man. You wanted to know if he ever was… well, naughty. Maybe he rebelled in his teen years, maybe he set a bush on fire and so on, but as you flip the page your thoughts disappear. No, you don’t find any crime reports on Percival’s behavior when he was young. Instead, you find a picture. It’s obviously a picture from his Ilvermorny years because there are more people in the picture and what you assume – back then a current House Head. They are all smiling to the camera, few girls are even waving at it, but that’s not what makes you forget how to breathe.  
There’s Percival, a handsome young man, with same serious expression he wears even to this day except he doesn’t look exactly like in a picture anymore. While Percival you know is a greying man from all his worries and hard work, there’s plenty of coal black hair on his head. And yet this Percival, the one in the picture, has semi long blond hair.  
“This can’t be.” You mutter and lean to the picture even more.  
Did he dye his hair? Possible but not likely. What’s more likely that as he entered adulthood his hair color changed like it happens a lot with children.  
The longer you look the more amused you feel by this picture. You know you can’t tell anyone and it clouds your good mood a bit because that would be some juicy story to share but as you lean back from the picture you imagine your boss, well, former boss, with blonde hair and you start blushing. It’s not that you don’t think Percival is good looking as he is now, but imagining him as a golden-haired man is something… almost exotic and it makes your heart race faster.  
Quickly you close the file. Enough for today. You don’t even know how you will be able to look at Graves with straight face from now on. You know you should’t’ve looked but you don’t regret it.  
________________________________________  
When he first saw you, he saw that something was different. Not that he could put his finger on it. Percival is a sharp man, but sometimes, probably like to most men, women are a mystery that can’t be solved. The day he first saw you after your demotion was the second day of your work in the archives. You acted strange invoking curiosity in Percival. You were always this brave witch, ready to be in the center of action, making sure everyone followed laws. But that day you were different. Not only had you stuttered when Percival asked you how you felt in your new job, you also blushed every time you looked at him. It was strange, Percival thought. While he usually doesn’t mind women being somehow impacted by his presence, rarely strong women like you acted this way around him. And he sure is used more to striking fear in people than adoration. It’s not that he avoids being loved as a leader, he just doesn’t act to make it happen. This is work and safety and order of the Wizarding Community is much more important than trying to be people’s favorite. It doesn’t damage his goals in being efficient in his job, but it’s not like Percival chases fame like some witches or wizards. That’s why your actions or, rather, behavior, struck him as strange.  
You kept touching your hair while talking to him and Percival knew enough body language that this meant either something deeply personal and possibly a bit lewd or that your mind was elsewhere. What he didn’t know that both of his guesses were right. And what struck Percival as most strange in this whole situation was that he actually liked seeing you blush. He never saw you like that, feminine in a way like this, before and it amused him. When you were out there, fighting criminals, helping people you were just one of the people working for the greater good and this meeting changed Percival’s view of you. You were , indeed, a woman, a beautiful woman too on the top of being smart and brave and above all – you blushed only for him.  
Percival is not the one to seek office romances but pink of your cheeks haven’t left him even in his sleep and almost unconsciously he decided that he wanted to see more of this, more of you blushing, more of you slightly nervous around him, more of you being just a woman instead of a soldier.  
________________________________________  
Its hour five already and you’re nowhere near the end of filing personal files to President’s wishes. While you did waste your time lingering on blonde Percival you still have a job to do and if Seraphina won’t see any progress in a direction she sees as best to move forwards to you probably will be demoted again to a janitor or something.  
You sit on the chair that you hexed for yourself the first day you were here and try to make stacks of files of the second Department you’re sorting. Your hair – a mess. Your clothes – dusty and dirty in places. Your face – tired but determined. You will do this and you will do this good.  
When you hear the door behind you open you don’t even turn to look who it is. You don’t care. Maybe someone came to bring even more papers for you to sort and you sure don’t want to see the amount of it just yet. You hear footsteps, slow, confident and it makes you curious. As you turn you see Percival walking towards you. He has his hands in his pockets and he looks a bit curious like he either was here very long time ago or never was in this room before. You don’t stand up and when he reaches you your eyes dart to his file on the floor, open to the picture of him in Ilvermorny.  
You swear in your mind. You knew that leaving his file open like that was childish and stupid but you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at it every once in a while and imagining Percival with locks of golden hair.  
“A lot of work?” He asks looking curiously at you and you start blushing harder than ever before. You know that he only needs to look at your feet at he will see what makes you act so strange in his company. Maybe you still can secretly hide it?  
“Yes, indeed.” You laugh awkwardly trying very discretely to push the file under your chair where you can use nose of your shoe to close it and pretend it never happened and you never saw it.  
“Maybe you need some help? I could-“  
“No.” You cut him off feeling seriously nervous like a young boy who was caught looking at French postcards. “I doubt President would be glad, it’s my punishment after all.” You add to make your interruption seem less rude.  
“She probably wouldn’t.” Percival smiles and his eyes travel to the stacks. You feel how your heart almost stops in your chest. You managed to slide his file almost the chair. “Oh, what’s that?” He asks and you try to shove the file under your chair but one wave of Percival’s fingers and file raises to his hand from under your shoe. As he examines the picture he furrows his brows. “I haven’t seen this picture in a while.” He mutters and you open your lips few times trying to find any words to say but you can’t so you remain silent. He looks at you and finally realization dawns on him. For your surprise he smiles. “My mother had golden hair, my father – black. As I grew I started to resemble my father instead of my mother.” He explains and you nod trying to look nonchalant but you know you look awkward as hell.  
“I was just sorting the files and…” You don’t need to explain yourself and you know it. Percival is smart enough to understand how you came upon this picture. Yet he’s still smiling. He closes the file and hands it you.  
As you take it with your trembling fingers, still expecting some scolding, you watch Percival lean to your ear.  
“I would like it if no one knew about this picture except you, Y/N. Understood?” He whispers and you quickly nod not being able to believe that you won’t get punished. “And one thing more.” Percival adds and your blood stops cold in your veins. “Now I need to see a picture of you. Maybe not so young though.”  
You blood becomes hot and you turn your head to look at Percival. He straightens his back and gives you a smile.  
“It’s only fair.” He teases and you don’t know how to respond. “See you later, Y/N.” Percival is still smiling and as he turns to leave you remain still as a statue, not being able to believe what just happened. Did he just… did he just flirt with you? Impossible.  
When door behind Percival closes you exhale and relax in your chair. You glance at the door once more then look down at the file. You need to put it away because if anyone else saw you ogling Director then talks would never end.  
As you make your way to the shelf you already sorted you smile while putting the file in its place. He wasn’t mad, he actually flirted with you. You blush again as you lower your eyes thinking.  
Maybe he liked it, liked your reaction. And you sure did like his. 

**Author's Note:**

> Want me to write a fic for you? Check my tumblr @madswritings.tumblr.com for current fic status and rules.


End file.
